


Winter Lodgings

by ArthurtheGatekeeper



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Geralt in Jaskier's clothing, Geralt winters with Jaskier, Hypothermia, Little Spoon Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, the tenderness of dressing someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26864167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurtheGatekeeper/pseuds/ArthurtheGatekeeper
Summary: Geralt finds himself snowed out of Kaer Morhen and in desperate need of somewhere to stay.He goes to Oxenfurt. Hoping that Jaskier's drunken promises of shelter during the winter are true.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 54
Kudos: 547





	Winter Lodgings

It was snowing. It had been for a while now.

The pass to Kaer Morhen probably closed weeks ago.

Which was fine. Except. Except that hym had gotten lucky and he could barely raise his arm to his shoulder now. He didn’t have the funds to make it to the temple- he barely had the funds to make it here. And now-

Now he was waiting to see if Jaskier’s drunken offers of winter lodging had any merit.

Because he had no other choice.

His gut churned anxiously as he waited. Snow collecting atop his and Roach.

_Well if you ever need a place for the winter let me know._

It couldn’t have been serious. Clearly Jaskier was joking at best. He’d be lucky if the bard even came out to let him know that he was unwelcome.

A pile of snow fell off his head as he leaned against Oxenfurt’s outer wall.

If he could get one night somewhere in the city he could find work. He could fight left handed. He just. Needed to be out of the snow.

He was so tired.

Roach nudged him.

He sluggishly moved over to pet her. Knocking snow from her mane.

He would figure something out. He just. He just.

“Geralt!” He turned to the overly loud voice cutting through the quiet of the snowstorm. “You look half frozen! Fight an ice giant on the way in?”

Jaskier’s excited jaunt became determinedly rapid as he neared. He was wrapped in an expensive looking bright blue cloak lined with what smelled like sheepskin. It looked warm.

His brow furrowed as he tried to work out what had been said to him. Jaskier pat his forearm with an easy smile. One hand undoing the hasty ties of his cloak.

Snow was knocked from his shoulders and the cloak wrapped around him. Still warm.

“Take Roach to the stables for us my good man.” Jaskier adjusted the collar tight around his jaw and buttoned the front closed. He nosed down into it. Definitely sheepskin. Definitely Jaskier’s. “And do make sure Fillip is awake and actually takes care of her. I swear that boy sometimes-“

Jaskier shivered in the doublet he’d thrown over his nightclothes.

His hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged him forward as the messenger took Roach’s reins and led her away.

“Roach-“ He started.

“Is in the best of hands. Come now before we catch our deaths in this blizzard.”

His room wasn’t big but it was larger than a fair amount of inn’s they’d shared. A bed. A desk. A closet. A bookshelf. Piles of paper strewn about the floor along with bundles of discarded clothing. 

Jaskier was quickly adding Geralt’s to the mix.

“Don’t grumble at me Witcher! I have sat through many a lecture from you specifically about the dangers of wet clothing and the cold. Do not give me that look.”

A blanket from the bed was tossed over his stripped form and he was shoved onto the mattress. He knew exactly why Jaskier was so skilled at undressing people but it was still impressive. He wrapped the blanket tighter. Shivering.

A shirt hit his face. He pulled it off only to be subsequently hit with one of Jaskier’s braies.

“I have clothing.”

“Oh in your soaked saddlebags?” Jaskier turned brandishing his wool stockings like a weapon. He knelt down in front of him. A warm hand wrapping around his numb ankle. Trying to lift it off the floor. “Don’t be as stubborn as Roach Geralt.” He scolded. He grumbled but let Jaskier pick it up off the ground. Not bothering to support its weight himself.

Jaskier’s arm didn’t shake in the least. The warmth of his hand starting the static return of sensation to his chilled limb. He gathered the material in his hand and softly slipped it over his toes. The arch of his foot. The material bunched at his anklebone and Jaskier switched hands. One holding his heel as he tugged the soft wool over his calf up to his knee.

It bunched there. His thighs too wide for the last of it. Jaskier folded it over his knee and set it gently down.

“Planning on staying long?” He asked as he arranged the other stocking.

“Hmm.” His hair dripped onto the blanket. He wiped the icy beads from his face. Burrowing into the familiarity of its scent.

“As eloquent as ever I see.” Jaskier held the fragile bones of his ankle in his palm. He closed his eyes and bathed in the certainty of his safety. The stocking rolled over his foot and bunched at his ankle again.

His foot lifted a little higher off the floor as he switched hands and he felt Jaskier’s hot breath at the base of his shin.

He shivered and pretended it was just from the cold.

“Don’t think I missed the hack job of your shoulder. Whoever sowed you up makes me look like a trained barber. I mean really. Did a blind eyed rat do it?”

He folded the stocking over his knee and collected the braies from the bed.

Picked his foot up and set it in one of the legs.

Then the other.

“First thing in the morning we’re taking you to Shani and getting that mess sorted.” He hitched the underclothing up over his knees. Parting the blanket.

He shuffled into them. Jaskier’s hands warm at his hips. Breathe hot at the top of his thighs.

He thanked the cold for his non reaction.

His hands smoothed down the soft fabric of Jaskier’s underwear. Down the sides of his hips. Over the unclothed hair of his thighs. Stopping to tug lightly at the top of the stockings. Warm against his knees.

Jaskier tugged the blanket closed around him. Dug around for something.

He closed his eyes. Exhausted.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.” His hair was pulled back and squeezed downward. Wrapped in a cloth that was soft against his neck.

Jaskier rubbed the makeshift towel hard against his skull. Shaking him with the intensity of that. He grumbled in protest.

“Oh shush.” He opened his eyes to watch Jaskier fling a pair of trousers across the room. No doubt where he had grabbed it from in the first place. “Get in the chemise and you can sleep for a week you whiny oaf.”

Without the chill to help numb and distract he wasn’t sure he could.

Still Jaskier tugged down the blanket. Easing that arm through first.

His tongue was sticking out. The concentration he devoted to such a menial task.

He smiled slightly and after Jaskier pulled it over his head he rested his forehead on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Pass is closed.” He whispered.

“Then- you’re really not helping at all are you?” He struggled to navigate his arm through the other sleeve. “You’ll just have to stay here. No two ways about it.”

“I can?” He was almost warm and he was surrounded by soft familiar safety.

“Of course.” Jaskier assured, giving up on the other arm and laying him down. “My home is your home Geralt. Or. Dorm. I suppose.”

“Why?” He exhaled as Jaskier settled against him. Chest pressed to the curve of his spine. Arm cuddled over him.

Skin pressed against the chill of his neck. It moved quietly with barely a hint of air or sound.

“Because your my home.”


End file.
